Burnt to Ashes
by ArtemisSasha
Summary: The story of Lily Evans' parents during World War 2. Muggle AU.


Spitfire

I had known that this would come, sooner or later. It was a horrid, and terrible feeling at the pit of my stomach, like an intuition, a warning that something something unpleasant would happen, and unfortunately, for my luck, it did.

It was Summer 1943. and I was in love with Theodore Williams. We were both 18, young and happy, I couldn't ask for more. I worked part time, waiting on tables in a near by cafe in the south of Britain and he worked on the Mr. Joe's farm a few miles from where I lived.

Today, it was a cloudy day, with the dull grey sky that consumed white fluffy clouds. The same colour as Theo's eyes. And he was all that I could think about.

"Hey, Irene?" Came an all too familiar voice from behind me. I turned around from the table that I was cleaning. I saw him standing near the doorway.

"Theo! How come you're off early?"

"Irene, can I please talk to you privately?" He asked, ignoring my question.

I shuffled around the tables and put my dusting cloth in the pocket of my apron.

"Of course, what about?" I said, walking up to him, and giving him a huge smile which he didn't return. His expression was solemn, worried and tense, it wasn't something that I'd seen before on his good natured and happy expression.

"I-I," he started to stutter.

"You..?" I prompted,

"I have to go," he said suddenly. He then wrapped his hands around me tightly, as if holding on for dear life. He was crushing me, and all the while, I was confused. I hadn't clue.

"Go where?"

"I'm 18 now, and there's a war going on. Britain has to fight," he explained to me. I slowly broke away and took a few steps behind. I completely understood the meaning of that line and didn't like it.

"Theo, you don't have to go! There are plenty of other men, who are fully willing to fight," I exclaimed, raising my voice.

"All the more reason. It's also compulsory that I should! There are boys who are 16, Irene, 16 who are risking their necks. I'm willing to do it,"

I was hysterical, I wanted to say, "But still!", but I couldn't. That would be selfish. I took a deep breath and put my hand on my forehead as if to calm myself down. I looked around the cafe. An old man was looking outside the window and sipping a mug of coffee, but I was sure he had heard everything that we had said. My boss, an old sly woman named Delilah was looking at me through the thin and translucent curtains from the private quarters. Her big eyes that had seen things that weren't her business or didn't need to, were wide at the commotion.

I walked up straight up to her. I didn't care whether she fired me today, but I needed the day off. I wanted to talk Theo about him joining the British to fight against the sadistic Fuhrer. I went to the private quarters and knocked loudly. She wouldn't be please.

"Oh Irene, dear, how can I help you?" She asked, with an innocent expression on her face. She wore it like a mask, that woman.

"Yes. I was just wondering whether I could have the day off, I've only four hours left. I'll make up for it later,"

"Of course you can dear," she said in a saccharine voice. She gave me a sickly sweet smile and a wink.

"Thank you, ma'am," I answered.

I walked off towards to Theo, who looked tired, but extremely apprehensive.

"Come on, let's go over to your house," I muttered, gently pulling his hand.

He nodded and obediently followed behind me. We lay down on the bed, I was curled up next to him. It was a very sweet moment, something that you wanted to last forever. So that tomorrow never came.

"When are you leaving?" I asked softly, my eyes staring at the fierce fire before us.

"Tomorrow evening. I'm signing myself up as a fighter pilot,"

"It's always what you wanted to do. To fly. To be in the air, right?" I asked, looking at him and smiling. He smiled back nodded.

"Irene, it's always what I've wanted to do,"

"So what plane do want to fly?" I inquired.

He hesitated before he answered. "A spitfire,"

He sounded happy, like this was his dream. And he was leaving me to achieve it. I couldn't help this feeling of desperation, and hurt. Both were entwined together, forming a blow in my chest. I snuggled closer to him and hugged him, and he hugged me back tightly.

The next day had found me sleeping in his bed, his arm around my waist and our bodies lying together. We were bare under the sheets and content, temporarily. Last night we had connected in ways that I'd never experienced before. It surreal and filling.

I was still sad about watching him go today, but I had felt much better after last night. He had assured me that he would return when the war was over, when this hell had passed.

I looked at him before he went, in his khaki pants and shirt. I hugged him, kissed him and planted him in my heart, where he would never leave, until death do us apart.

I dropped him off near the camp, where we was to join the other soldiers who were his age. I walked home alone, to greet my mother who had hugged me and told me that he would come back, and everything would turn out fine.

It was only five or six weeks later that I had felt a different, and strange feeling in my body. I didn't know what it was. It was odd, so I went over to my mother.

"Ma, I've got this strange feeling, in my abdomen," I said, gesturing towards the area.

She ran her hand over my stomach and felt it. She closed her eyes and started, "Irene, did you do anything with that boy?"

I looked down, away from her, even though her eyes were closed. "Are you saying...?

"Indeed I am."

I decided to write to Theo, telling him what had happened. I had hoped that this would give him some happiness, rather than the stress of learning that he had become a father. I wrote to him every few weeks, until one day, I hadn't received a letter. Three days later, a British officer landed up at my doorstep.

"Irene Evans?"

"Yes, that's me sir,"

He handed me a letter, with his jacket and wallet. Whatever this meant, I knew it wasn't good. I again felt that horrid feeling in my stomach that told me something unpleasant had happened.

I opened the letter and read,

_Miss Evans,_

_Theodore Williams had given us your address to write to if anything happened. I am sorry to inform that Theodore has been deceased when he was fighting against the enemy whilst flying his Spitfire, in no mans land during an ambush. The plane had been destroyed. I have left the remains of his belongings with this letter._

_Mark Henderson_

I broke down and fell to the ground, sobbing. Something very dear to me had been taken like that, and this feeling of utter hopelessness had poured into my veins, flowing through me. I cried until the officer had left and my mother had come to comfort me. I didn't eat the next few weeks, until my mother had to force feed me. I felt like like there was a hole inside, and it would never be filled. I told my mother about this endless stream of sadness and hopelessness.

"Irene, you forget," she said, giving me a stern, "you forget that you have a part of him living inside you and not just in your heart."

I realised what she meant and nearly started to cry again until she reprimanded me.

"Be strong for the child at least. She deserves to be happy,"

"She'll never meet Theo," I said miserably.

My mother shook her head. "We cannot change that now, can we? We can only look forward. Tell me, what would you name your child?"

I hesitated. I looked around at picture of me and Theo. We were sitting on the grass, in an all too familiar place. The meadow behind me house. We were surrounded with lilies.

"Lily. I'll call her Lily."


End file.
